Can you feel the fear?
by DelilahBlake
Summary: Sam and Dean have always been hunters, they know things other people don't dare dream. But they also have fears other people would never have. Dean has always known what being an adult is like, ever since he was four years old and had to take care of little Sammy. He also knows what it is like to be terrified. But never had fear been so dangerous before.
1. Prologue

**Prologue.**

How in the world had he ended up in here? He looked around, trying in vain to recognize the place that served as his prison but it was darker than anything he had seen before.

"Sam?" He called, trying desperately to undo the ropes that held him captive. "Sam!" Louder this time. His voice echoed through the walls, the way it does when a room is completely empty, the sound bouncing against the naked walls. Which was probably the case.

"Dean?" The voice was barely above a whisper, but it was all Dean needed. It wasn't Sam's.

"Who are you?" He stopped fighting his bindings for a second, focusing on his surroundings. He could see no movements, but it was probably due to the total darkness. He couldn't hear a thing, either. Not even the wind he could certainly feel against his face every now and then.

"Dean? Is that you?" This time, the voice was stronger. It took Dean a second to pair that voice with a face.

"Cas?"

"What is this place?"

"You are the angel, why don't you tell me? "

"Dean?"

"Cas? Can you hear me, buddy?"

"Dean! Are you there? Dean!" Dean did not need to see his friend's face to know, he could hear the pain in his voice.

"Cas! Can you hear me?" He was almost yelling now, the echo hurting his ears.

There was no answer.

Anxiety took over Dean's body, making him fight stronger than ever against his restrains.

"Cas!" He shouted, but no sound came out of his mouth. "Cas!" He tried again, louder. Still no sound came out.


	2. 72 Hours Earlier

This is the first Supernatural fanfic I've ever written, which I would never have written if it weren't for a very special person in my life. She knows who she is without telling, therefore I won't mention her name. I, whoever, used the right every author has as to change situations as it suits him/her the best. **Spoilers for season 7! **In here, Castiel did not join forces with Crowley whatsoever, but Dick and his group are indeed a very real problem for the Winchesters. Bobby, however, is dead. - I wish he weren't, tho. Too sad to write him into this without him being really alive.

_For her, _

I hope you seriously enjoy this little piece of my mind I turned into words just for you. You might be wondering why I did not include your name. I think it is more special for you to know who you are even without me mentioning your name, turning you but into a _her_ or _she_ in this small adventure. Sometimes what we don't say talks louder than what we do (: I wrote a character into this story that is based on you, and the amazing way you are. I do hope you find who this character is in due time, but of course, you never use your strongest weapon on the first battle, but until war is on (:

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural, or Dean or Sam or Castiel or anything else. If I did, Sam would be shirtless 120% of the time, and Dean and Castiel would be to busy making out to actually save the world. (:

* * *

**72 hours earlier...**

"I will have the turducken sandwich, please" Ordered Dean, handing the waiter the menu and turning back to the newspaper he had been reading.

"Turducken sandwich, Dean? Seriously? After what happened? Also, is 9 a.m." Half-whispered, half-shouted Sam as soon as the waiter was out of earshot, in that way only he can manage.

"We already dealt with those stoned-sandwiches, okay? And it was delicious, mister salad-lover"

"At least I won't die of a heart-attack. And I ordered eggs."

"Whatever. If I'm gonna die before I turn 40 anyway, I might as well enjoy it"

But the little brotherly quarrel was interrupted by the waiter bringing them their breakfasts.

"Enjoy your food, sirs"

Both Winchesters began eating without another comment, both shooting each other a nasty glance every now and then.

"Found anything on the newspaper?" Asked Sam finally, already finishing his breakfast.

"Not much. Murder-suicide of a couple down in Oklahoma, but it doesn't seem like our thing"

"What happened?"

"He cheated. He is dead"

"Okay... anything else?"

Dean looked at the newspaper again; looking for something he might have missed during the first four times he had read it.

"Jack squat. What about you, any luck?"

Sam stared at his laptop screen and sighed. Dean had been all grumpy since they lost sight of Dick a couple weeks ago, and didn't even bother to look for any new cases. For instance, he was looking at the politics page of the newspaper, which he never did, instead of the crime one. "A woman died of a heart-attack"

"Seems normal to me"

"She was 19 years old."

That got Dean's attention. He slowly placed his half-eaten enormous sandwich to stare at his brother.

"Heart disease?"

"Not according to her records. Fourth heart attack in less than a month, all from relatively healthy people. Youngest was 18, oldest was 34. Think this is our thing?"

"Where is it?" Dean was going through the motions, but Sam knew his brother enough to tell when he was faking it.

"Villisca"

"Iowa? Isn't there where we hunted an axe-murder victim's spirit couple years back? Josiah something?"

"Josiah Moore. Yeah, I think so."

"Well, it's only a couple hour drive down there, we might as well check it out"

"Let's go" Agreed Sam, packing his laptop while his brother finished the sandwich in a giant bite, sending little crumps everywhere and left a $10 dollars bill on the table.

Sam winced at his brother, but kept his mouth shut.

"Hurry up, gianormous" Called Dean from the door of the diner, a big, fake smile on his face.

Sam rolled his eyes but followed his brother to the Impala anyway.

After two hours and a half of driving and the occasional snore from the youngest of the Winchesters brothers, they boys arrived to Villisca. Dean drove directly to a filthy-looking motel on the side of the road, Sam still asleep on the passenger seat.

A light smile forced its way into Dean's face. It had been a long time since Sam had last been able to sleep, especially in a moving car with old rock music and Dean's singing voice as a lullaby. For an instance, Dean was back in time where all they had to fight were killable demons and spirits, back when Bobby and Dad had been alive. Back when so many people had been alive... The smile was soon replaced with a thin line of tension, his brows slightly furrowed. Would they be able to fight _and_ win against Dick Roman and his kind?

He remembered one of the last conversations he had had with Bobby before... well, before.

_How many more hits can we take?_ He had yelled that, but not quite believe it. Not matter what he and his brother got themselves into; they always found a way to make it work. Hell, they were still alive and that was more than enough proof. But now he wondered what the answer to that might be. And it frightened him that the answer to that might be a single-digit number.

Dean shook himself from his thoughts and placed his hand slightly on his brother's shoulder, shaking him up.

"We are here, Sammy. What do you wanna do first?"

Sam brushed the sleepiness off his eyes with the back of his hands and stared at the motel neon sign. 'All Token Inn Motel' shone in red lights in front of his eyes. He rose his eyebrows at his brother, but Dean just dismissed the unspoken question with a hand movement.

"Well... the morgue, I guess" The youngest of the Winchester boys was all business now, being taught his whole life to go into alert mode into a second, no sign of sleepiness left on him, aside from the marks the seat had left on his right cheek.

Dean nodded at his brother, taking a look at his watch.

"If we change in under 10 minutes, we might still be able to get there before it's closed"

After a lifetime of practice, both Winchesters were on their way to the Morgue in 8 minutes, already in FBI clothes.

The morgue was a small building made out of red bricks, with a small wooden desk for the receptionist and three chairs in a row on the left side of the hall, that apparently worked as the waiting room.

An old woman sat by the desk, her white hair up in a tight bun held in place by a headband. Her dark green eyes looked small behind her orange horn rim cat glasses. An orange shawl covered her shoulders and the most part of her pink dress. She looked at the Winchesters in a bored kind of way, chewing her gum in a way that everyone knew _exactly_ what she was chewing.

"Hello, ma'am... Mildred." Said Dean, leaning forward on the desk, reading the name from her nametag, showing her a bright, big smile and his fake-badge. "I'm agent Smith, this is my partner, agent Rose."

"It's Mrs. Gardoni, young man" She said sourly, her voice raspy and low.

Dean was taken aback by her attitude, but quickly recovered and continued to smile as bright as humanly possible, which only make it look like a grimace. "Well, Mrs Gardoni... We are here about the death of 19-year-old Isabella Donovan"

Sam smiled at the old woman in an effort to keep himself from laughing at his brother and showed his fake-badge as well, then went back to looking at the rest of the room. Apparently, the receptionist had taken decoration in her own hands, since there were pictures of the same three cats in all walls.

"Didn't she die of a heart-attack?" Asked Mrs. Gardoni, going through her papers. "Well, I guess the FBI's got its reasons." She looked at Dean suspiciously, even taking her glasses off. Dean only nodded. "Go on ahead, the doctor is still there." She pointed to a room at the end of the hall, with a bright smile of her own that she directed solely at Sam, once she got a good luck at him. Dean could have sworn he saw her wink.

Both brothers nodded and thanked her, before following the path the woman had signaled them.

"Norman Bates' mother was totally flirting with you" Teased Dean.

"Yeah, and you flirted with her" Recounted Sam, opening the door for both of them.

Inside, they found a very short doctor sewing up the body of young Isabella Donovan.

"Just a second" He mumbled without turning back, still working on his latest ... patient. "What a shame, this accidents" The doctor said, no longer mumbling.

"Accidents?" Asked Sam, stepping into the office.

"Well, I don't know what to call them, really. Four heart attacks in a month? You don't see that everyday. Accident seems to be the best term, since there are no common factors" For the first time the doctor turned around, facing the boys. He was rather short, barely taller than 5"2, with big blue eyes and short brown hair. He looked 40 at the most, but his eyes told a different story, as if his soul was much older than his body. Dean realized that was probably the way he looked, too. As did every other hunter. But he noticed something else, too; the man did look either of them in the eye, instead focusing on anything else near him. _Liar_.

Sam had been saying something; Dean could listen to his voice, but couldn't make out the words. He was probably making up an excuse as to why the FBI would be interested in a case like this. Which is no case at all.

"Doctor," He interrupted finally, earning a nasty look from his brother, which quickly turned into one of confusion. Dean was no looking at the man in front of them, or at his brother, but at the girl that lay dead on the table.

"Yes, agent?" His voice was squeaky now. He was getting nervous.

"Is there anything else you would like to tell us?" Dean turned to face the doctor, wearing his best 'bad cop' face, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Excuse me?" He was shaking now.

Sam looked at the doctor, then at his brother, then at the doctor, then back at his brother. "What?" He mouthed, so only Dean would get the message. With the slightest head movement, Dean signaled to the file on the edge of the table, all the information of the autopsy already on it. Which is impossible if the doctor was sewing up the girl.

"Doctor, was there a need to do a second autopsy?" Asked Sam finally, going through the files on the table, reading as much as he could in as little time.

The doctor looked as if he was about to faint, color suddenly drained from his body. "I...uh. I was just looking at the body one more time, detective. To see if there was anything I missed the first time. Like I told you, this is very weird."

"Yes, of course" Answered Sam. If the man was such a bad liar, and the victims were dying of heart attacks, then there was no need to press matters any further. "Would you mind if we take a look at the body?"

"Knock yourselves out" And with that, the small man left the room, still slightly shaking.

Dean looked at the retreating figure, still wondering what the little scene was all about.

"Are you going to stand there or are you going to come here and help me?" Sam's voice was strained, and when Dean looked he saw that he was trying to move the body all by himself.

"Woah, woah, woah. What are you trying to do, steal a corpse?"

"Don't be an idiot, Dean. I'm trying to turn her around" He said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which, to Dean, it was not. However, he knew that look in his brother's eyes, so he rushed to help.

"What are we looking for?" Asked Dean, all business now, looking at the woman's body. There were no bruises on her skin, or any kind of marks really, aside from the small blue rose tattoo on the back of her neck.

"A puncture wound" Answered Sam, looking closely at the girl's arm.

"As in needle?"

"As in anything. Teeth, needle, horn. Healthy people don't just drop dead, Dean. Something is going on" Dean looked at his brother, question in his eyes.

"Are you saying this _is_ our kind of thing?"

"I think so" Sam finally let go of the woman's arm. "There's nothing" He ran his hands through his long hair in confusion, his eyes fixed on the woman but his mind focused on what he had just read.

"So...no 'puncture wound'. What does that mean?" Dean rounded the table, taking the files and reading them himself, trying to figure out what was going on in Sam's head. "Okay, what the hell does 'Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy' mean? I'm pretty sure he just made it up.

"It's also known as the 'Broken Heart Syndrome'. It means the left ventricle, the main pumping chamber of the heart, is weakened. The blood is not pumped the way it should be, and it feels like a heart attack."

"Okay, college boy, I thought your major was law?"

"I read that, Dean. In a book" Sam looked at the files in Dean's hands and nodded. "Let's go. Bring those, I'll ask for a copy"

Dean looked at the weird words on the document and nodded, following his brother out of the cold room they were in, wondering what the hell a broken heart had to do with the kind of things they hunted.


	3. Broken Heart Syndrome

**Broken Heart Syndrome**

"I brought dinner." announced Dean through a mouthful, closing the room door of their room with the back of his foot, a box of greasy pizza on one hand, a cold bottle of beer on the other. Sam, who was sitting on his bed, typing furiously on his laptop, seemed oblivious to his brother's presence. "Dude, diner. Pizza." He repeated, taking another enormous bite off his pizza slide, his happiness comparable to that of a child waiting for Santa for the first time. Pizza had that effect on Dean.

"Just a minute" Sam called, raising a finger and reading something. He had been like that for the last hour, not even sharing what he knew with his brother.

"What can possible be more important than pizza?" Asked Dean finally, placing the pizza box on a nearby table.

At this, Sam raised his graze from the laptop to look at his brother as if he had just grown a second head. Dean used his peripheral vision just to make sure he hadn't.

"People dying?" He offered finally, when he realized Dean was serious.

"It's a heart attack, Sammy. Is there some kind of monster that can cause that?"

Sam sighed and put his laptop aside. "I don't know, I really don't know" He looked exhausted and defeated. He massaged his eyes slightly, which made Dean notice the fact that they were incredibly red. The older Winchester sighed and made his way over there, not sure if his brother had really found a clue or was trying to get his mind off things, like Bobby or the Leviathans. Or both.

"What do you _do_ know?" Insisted Dean, sitting next to him on the bed and handing him a slide of pizza and his beer, the kid needed some sugar.

"This people were poisoned by..."

"Poisoned? That doesn't sound demon-y to me, Sam. They much rather just gut them. Or eat them. Or, you know... messy, bloody, that kinda shit." Babbled Dean, looking at the screen in front of them, an article on Voodoo curses stared back at him.

Being a more civilized human than his brother, Sam waited until he had nothing in his mouth to answer. "They were poisoned by their own bodies, Dean." With this, he took a long sip of the beer and handed it back to his brother. "You didn't get _me _a beer"

"Last time, you brought me cake. Pie and cake are not the same." Dean could be such a baby sometimes. But right now, Sam was more focused on the case than his brother being a jerk. Also, he made a mental note NOT to get his brother a pie next time. The princess could get it himself.

"I think these people died of fear." He said finally, shutting his laptop in exasperation, letting his body fall back on the bed, eyes closed.

"Are you trying to tell me that fear can kill you?" Dean was completely dumbfounded. He had heard of a million weird ways to die, none of them were out of shear fear.

"Yes, Dean, that is exactly what I'm saying" Answered Sam, rolling his eyes and eating his pizza. Dean thought his brother looked stupid sprawled in bed like that, with his endless legs hanging from the side of the bed, but decided to keep his mouth shut.

"I didn't know that was real. I always though it was some stupid expression or something"

"It's rare, actually. Also, it usually seems to take quite a while, but... Yeah, I think this people are dying out of fear." He managed to keep his eyes open long enough to stare at his brother, as if expecting him to tell him he was just being stupid, that it was impossible. Truth is, Sam had only mentioned the case to take his head off Bobby and the fact that Dick was still a million steps ahead, but now it looked like it _was _one of their things. When he saw the confused expression on Dean's face, he started to explain. "When you are frightened, like really, really frightened, your body starts to produce epinephrine, that's adrenaline, making the heart bit faster. When this happens, the heart's rhythm gets all messed up, putting stress on..." Sam knew the blank stare on Dean's face all too well; he understood nothing. Sam sighed. He himself didn't really understand it either; he had actually had to look up a lot of terms to finally make sense of it. "Long story short, your body stats to get poisoned by adrenaline and then it just shuts down. Normally that's treatable but it seems like this people just don't get a chance, the adrenaline keeps on spreading all around until it kills them"

Dean roamed the information, trying to make some sense out of it. "That actually makes sense. But doesn't your body stop the adrenaline? Isn't it supposed to be smart or something?"

Sam nodded. "It is, Dean. This is a defense mechanism. It's just... I don't know, I had never seen this before"

"What was that about voodoo you were reading? Think we will find some kind of spell in her house?" The oldest of the Winchesters took the files again, trying to look for something that Sam might have overlooked the first time. Or the second. Or the tenth. But the only thing he accomplished was getting cheese and tomato sauce all over the pages.

"Not really. Some voodoo cases seemed to be really deaths by fear; People were so scared someone had cursed them that they were slowly killing themselves without realizing it. This kind of death is way more common in animals, but there are some cases with humans"

"And something that can cause that amount of fear..."

"... has got to be our kind of thing. Yes" Finished Sam, taking another bite from his pepperoni pizza that had long since gotten cold.

"I know a lot of things that can cause that amount of... wait. Did you read this?"

"What?" Asked Sam, alert once again, although his eyes were still red and a little puffy.

"There were only three liters of blood left on the body. You don't bleed out when you have a heart attack."

"They didn't really die of a heart-attack" Corrected Sam immediately, not really meaning to. "I read about that, too. But we found no wound on her. Neither Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy nor Rhabdomyolysis, that's when the muscles get torn and cause the body to get poisoned, cause that blood loss. It seems to be the piece that doesn't fit."

Dean closed his eyes and mumbled something about "stupid braniac" and "college boy". Sam ignored him and took his brother's distraction to his advantage and took the beer for himself. If Dean noticed, he didn't show.

"Dude, what are you doing? You look constipated"

"Shut up, Sam. I'm trying to call Cas"

"By looking constipated?"

"By praying, you bitch"

"How can Cas help us, anyway?"

"He is an angel, Sam. He is supposed to know things, okay? "

Sam looked at his brother making stupid faces while trying to call Castiel. The angel had been so busy lately he very rarely answered Dean's calls, and almost none from Sam. Which Sam found was discriminatory, really.

This time, however, nothing happened.

"I think he might be breaking up with you" Teased Sam, leaving the bed for the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

"Shut up!" Dean growled from the room. Sam tried to smile, like he would have on a normal situation, but his face refused to cooperate. With a sigh, he washed his faced and returned to his brother.

"I don't know what to do" Admitted Dean, going through John's old journal. "There's nothing here"

"I am at a loss, too. I don't seem to find anything on the Internet on things that kill with fear. I will hit the library tomorrow."

Dean nodded and headed for his bed, his body already numb from exhaustion.

* * *

_Knock, knock._

Groan.

_Knock, knock._ Faster this time.

Sam opened his eyes slowly, adjusting to the darkness in the room. Green digits from the alarm clock told him it was 3 in the morning. Great. Just great. Who could it possibly be?

Dean's arm slowly snaked to the knife he kept hidden under his pillow, but Sam noticed before he could even reach the handle.

"It's only me, Dean"

Instantly, Dean's back relaxed and he went back to sleep.

Grabbing a shirt from somewhere on the floor, Sam headed for the door but tripped with Dean's boots that he always left lying around. With a grunt Sam threw them at his brother's face but he just changed position. Typical. As long as Dean knew the only person in the room was Sam, he would not wake up, no matter how much noise Sam managed to make.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Sam opened the door, ready to yell at whoever dared disturb his sleep, but as soon as he opened the door he froze on his tracks.

"Cas?" He mumbled, unable to believe what his eyes were telling him. Slowly, he rubbed his face, the last traces of sleepiness now gone. The image before him did not change.


	4. Feathery Surprise

**Feathery Surprise**

"_Cas?" He mumbled, unable to believe what his eyes were telling him. Slowly, he rubbed his face, the last traces of sleepiness now gone. The image before him did not change._

On the door stood the angel, his vessel's face now covered in blood, one of his eyes purple and swollen.

"Oh, crap. Castiel, what happened to you?" Asked Sam, helping his friend into the room. "How did you find us?"

"I... I do not remember, Sam. I woke up two streets down. I saw the Impala. This is the third door I knock on."

"But... what happened to you? You are bleeding"

"The blue eye is courtesy of your neighbor. He is not a very nice man."

At the sound of Castiel's voice Dean woke up, his naked torso half-covered in the almost-transparent sheets of their two-star motel, the dark ink of his tattoo visible even through it. "What'swrong?" Asked Dean, his words barely recognizable from slumber.

"Cas" Was all Sam said. But it was enough to get Dean on his feet.

"He decided to answer the angel phone now?" He grabbed a nearby sweater, one of Sam's probably, since it was too long, but was interrupted before he had the chance to put it on.

"I didn't answer any phone" Came Cas' voice, strained from the effort it took to move the bruise that was his mouth.

"Dude, I have been calling you for days now." Dean's finger was pointing to where the chest of the shadow in front of him should be according to his anatomical knowledge, the other hand still grasping the piece of cloth. "I even learnt a new pr..." He stopped midsentence when he got near enough to Cas and Sam to see what the problem was. "What the hell happened to your face?" In one practiced movement Dean grabbed Castiel's chin and inspected the rest of his face, analyzing the amount of damage done. Sam recognized the movement; he used to do that for Sam when he was a boy. "It's not too bad. You do look like shit, tho."

"He doesn't remember it happening" Informed Sam, already going through the contents of his first-aid kit.

Dean got the sweater on in one fast movement and took the alcohol from Sam's hand to start disinfecting the numerous wounds on Cas' face. _Freaking angel probably doesn't even know how to do that,_ thought Dean when he saw said creature's lost look. Then he backtracked to what Sam had just said. "What do you mean you don't remember? Someone beat the crap out of you and you just what... forget about it?"

"Yesterday, I was in London with Gadreel going through some...angel stuff. Then I woke up near here and my face hurts"

"Of course it hurts, you bitch. You are covered in scratches" Dean had to fight against Castiel's need to avoid pain while Sam bandaged the angel's hand which, apparently, had been broken.

"Cas, this looks like quiet a fight. Not just an angry neighbor kind of thing" Commented Sam unconsciously, not really realizing he had just given up too much information until Dean gave him a hard look.

"Angry neighbor?"

"Yes, your neighbor hit me in the eye. He didn't believe I was an angel of the Lord looking for two boys"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Of course he didn't, Cas. Now, why haven't you been answering? I get Heaven is going wild with what you...what happened with purgatory but we _do_ have to deal with the Leviathans, you know?"

"Sorry, Dean. I don't know what is going on, I didn't hear any of it. "

"Like Hell you haven't! I've been calling non-stop for like three days!" It is true Dean had had a hard time forgiving Cas after all that happened, but he also realized he had been through this before. With Sam. Cas had become a friend, maybe something more since all their friends ended up dead and Cas wasn't yet. And after losing Bobby... he didn't want to keep losing people. Even if it meant breaking them. Dean sighed and headed back to his bed; he had been trying so hard to avoid thinking about this and now it had happened so smoothly he had hardly noticed it. It hurt Cas to be with them. It broke him. Angels aren't supposed to care about humans.

"Dean? Is something wrong?" Asked Sam, turning on all the lights. They might as well admit they weren't going to get any sleep that night.

"Just thinking about the case" Lied Dean, looking at the two men that shared the tiny motel room with him. Couple years back he would have laughed, now... now it seemed like an everyday kind of deal. Privacy was a luxury they hadn't been able to afford for years now.

"What case?" Cas' voice was still a little muffled but he did look better. Since the boys didn't have ice, he was holding a cold beer against his face.

It didn't take long for the Winchesters to put Castiel to date, especially since they knew so little about it all. For a while none of them spoke, too deep in thought in Sam's case, or at a total loss in Cas' and Dean's.

"Hey, maybe it's the whore... she reads minds, right?" Said Dean suddenly.

"The whore?" More than a real question it was an accusation. Sam didn't seem to believe that in the slightest beat.

"Yeah, the whore of, something"

"The whore of Babylonia, Dean. And it's not her" Both Winchesters looked at the angel in the room. He stared back.

"How do you know that?"

"Because...I'm an angel"

"That means you have wings, not that you are always right!"

Sam stared at the two men discussing the whore theory.

"She is dead, you two" He said finally. "Dean somehow killed her. Can there be more than one, Cas?"

"Not in such a little amount of time, no. That would be an impossibility"

"Why didn't you tell _me_ that, instead of the 'I'm an angel' bullshit?" Complained Dean.

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed a beer. This was getting them anywhere near to solving the case.

"Maybe whatever it is can read minds, that's how he/she/it attacks. " Offered Sam, after a while of thinking.

"Is that possible? To have fear be your only power?"

"Wait... that sounds familiar."

"This? Seriously, dude? You are such a geek"

"I read about it somewhere" Said Sam in his defense, as he started looking among the many pages he had printed.

"Where, Alice in Wonderland?"

"Don't be silly, Dean That's from Twilight" Once again, Castiel was the center of attention. Even Sam had stopped looking through his pages.

"How in the world did you even know that, Jabberwocky?" Inquired Dean, trying his best to keep himself from bursting out laughing. Sam was just staring in awe.

"I don't sleep"

"So you, what? Read fairytales?"

"No, I watched the movie. It was a bad one."

"... Okay"

"I read it on an asian folklore book." Sam searched for a little while longer before separating a page from the rest. "Here. They're called Satori. Japanese demons that can read minds and attack their victims until they drive them insane"

"You think that's what we are dealing with?" Asked Dean, taking the page his brother was offering him. He did a quick scan of what was on the page and passed it to Cas. "Maybe whatever it is we are dealing with is the reason why Cas didn't hear my prayers. Or got used as a boxing sack"

"How do we know if it is a Satori or not?" Wondered Cas out-loud. He had never really been in an investigation full-time, nor had he ever been affected the way he was now. He couldn't even use his powers to heal himself.

"We... go out there and get as much information we can" Was all Sam could think of, sleep taking over his body once again.

"We can search that tomorrow" Agreed Dean, heading for the bed. "I think New Moon is playing on FOX, Cas. Knock yourself out"

"What is New Moon?"

Both brothers laughed before falling asleep once again, leaving a very confused angel watching over them.


	5. Mystery Incorporated

**Chapter 4. Mystery Incorporated**

A crease adorned Cas' forehead, his eyes furrowed in concentration. But his hands kept getting it wrong,

"Dean, I do not know how to do this" He finally admitted, walking to Dean who was sitting on his bed, tying his shoes. He looked up at Castiel, already in black trousers and socks, and the tangle he had made of his tie. He smiled.

"It's just a tie, Cas"

"I know what it is. What I don't know is how to tie it." He explained, trying once more to get it right but failing.

Dean chuckled under his breath and helped the angel. He did it step by step, but knew Cas would need his help again anyway.

"Sam, you ready?" Yelled Dean, still busy with Castiel's suit.

There was no answer. "Sammy?" More quietly this time. With a new sigh, he made his way to the bathroom and opened the door, "I said, are you ready?"

"Dean! Would it kill you to knock once in a while?" Half-asked, half-accused Sam, a razor blade. Dean noted with a little pang of guilt how a small river of blood stained Sam's white undershirt.

"What? Did I interrupt your make up session or something, Samantha?" He asked, recovering fast, a bright smile adorning his face, his mischievous eyes glistening in the shadow the doorway offered.

"Very mature" Complained Sam, closing the door on his brother's face. "I'll be ready in 5 minutes. After I clean this blood!"

"Blood?" Asked Cas, now wearing a jacket and shoes.

"Princess was using a razor blade" Explained Dean, looking at the new fake ID he had managed to put together for the third member of Team Free Will. "This should work" Cas took the ID from Dean to place it in the inside of his jacket and nodded. He wasn't really sure how he was going to manage to pull this off, but he would manage. Or Dean would find a way to fix his messes anyway.

"So, what's the plan?" Asked Sam once he walked out of the bathroom, now fully dressed. The only remaining mark of the previous 'accident' was the small redness on Sam's neck.

"We take the police, you take victim's houses" Both Winchester exchanged a look, and the younger one nodded. Castiel was probably safer with the cops than with the mourning families, he would probably let them all now it was no accident and that they were looking for the real paranormal murderer.

"Meet you at Ringo's Burger for lunch" Was Sam's version of, 'okay, brother, see you later'. "Don't get killed!" Warned Sam already on his way to the cab he had called beforehand.

"'Don't get killed'" Mimicked Dean, making his way to his Impala. Cas followed suit, not saying a word.

* * *

The sky was cloudless, the sun shining all over the small town of Villisca making it a perfect summer morning. Except, of course, for the little fact that our three main heroes were a little busy looking for a mythological creature to actually enjoy the day. One thing they might actually regret when their time finally comes; not enjoying a single sunrise, even though most of the time they were up and on the move way before it even started.

Inside the morgue everything was quite, save for the metal clank of the doctor's tools, or the small, sickening sound of the human flesh being cut and sewed. A couple of seconds later, the buzzing of a mobile phone, the low clicks of its buttons being clicked.

"Sam?" Called Dean into his phone. "Another victim" Strain made his voice sound weird, but it was steady nether less. But one look at him and you would have been able to tell he was fighting hard not to break. " Twelve years old, same MO"

There was a moment of silence from the other side of the line. "You sure?" Came after a while.

"I am going to find this bastard" Was all he said, before slapping the phone shut. He should have given Sam names, maybe an address, but right now he had something more important to do. "You said this girl was with someone else at the moment of her death?" Dean's attention was back to the doctor, who had now finished with the girl's autopsy.

"Yes. He is down at the police station" Informed the doctor.

"I thought this was an accident" Spoke Castiel for the first time, standing next to Dean, but his eyes fixated on the small corpse that lay on the cold bed in a Morgue.

"She was 12, detective. They are looking for probably cause, maybe a suicide" Both men nodded, knowing fully well they would find nothing.

"Well, thank you for your help. If anything else happens, please let us know" Dean handed the small doctor a business card with his number, and headed for the door. "Detective Ferrer, let's head to the police station" Added Dean, when Castiel didn't move.

"Yes, of course."

* * *

"Did she do... um, anything outside of her daily routine? Maybe a situation that got her all worked up?" Offered Sam, fishing for anything that could work as a lead.

The woman before him shook her head no, small tears forming in her green eyes. "Isabella was a good kid, on her first year of college. There's not much that could get her that worked up, I was paying for her education"

Sam's eyes danced around the house, trying to take as much of it was he possibly could. Marisol, Isabella's 34-year-old sister, hadn't been of much help. Sam nodded and gave her a reassuring smile.

"I think that is enough, Marisol. Thanks for having me" He stood up, the woman followed him to the door.

"Wait! Detective? She had been going to this place... Damn, I can't remember the name. What a good caretaker I am, huh? It is in the outskirts of town, an old house teenager now use to party, you know?" The tears had broken free of the small wall Marisol had built up for herself and run through her cheeks, soaking the neck of her shirt. Her eyes focused on some point to the left of Sam's face, avoiding his stare, her small hand in a tight fist, trying to make the tears stop. Sam knew from experience that wasn't going to happen; losing a sibling is not easy. He smiled once again.

"I'm sure you were a great caretaker, Marisol. You took full responsibility of a teenager, it couldn't have been easy. I'm sure your sister was happy here."

"If she was, then why did she die of a heart-attack?" It wasn't a real question, Marisol didn't really want to know what happened to her sister like most other relatives did. And Sam understood that, too. She did not want to know what had ended her sister's life; she wanted her to come back. She took a deep breath and willed herself to stop crying. Even though the tears kept coming, the sobbing stopped. "Thank you for stopping by, agent. Now, if you don't mind, I need some time alone"

Sam nodded and headed for the door. He had found no evidence of anything, but that was probably due to the fact that he had no idea what to look for. How can you find something you have no idea what it is, or how it looks? Just as he started making his way to Ringo's his phone rang, _D._ was written on the screen in green letters. He answered on the second ring.

"Sam? Another victim"

* * *

When they walked into the police station, Dean was expecting it to be almost empty, with a couple of cops talking through mouthful of donuts, coffee mugs on hand. He did not expect it to be full of though looking guys, covered in tattoos.

"Gang fight" Explained the officer who was now leading them through the mass of people that took most of the precinct.

Dean nodded, and Cas kept on looking from tattooed face to a pierced face, trying to find the one who was supposes to be their witness, when he spotted something else that caught his attention. He turned around to tell Dean what he had just seen just at the same time that Dean turned around to open the door behind Cas.

They stopped in their tracks, their facer mere inches from one another.

"I have to tell you something" Informed Cas, not making any move to get some space between them.

"Woa, Woa, Cas. At least buy me diner first." Said Dean under his breath, taking once step back. Cas determined face fell, confusion now obvious in his blue eyes.

"I... I don't understand. You already ate."

"Nothing. Personal space, Cas." To this Cas nodded and took a step back as well.

"I still have to tell you something"

"The witness is behind that door"

"Yes, but, do you see that woman?" Cas pointed to a girl in the crowd. Dean immediately lurched at his hand, putting it to Cas' side again.

"You don't point at people!" He hissed, but looked at where Cas had pointed seconds ago. There was a girl, all right. Couldn't be more than 25, talking to one of the cops. She looked like any other regular girl, dark messy hair, boyfriend jeans, oversized top with a light sweater on, combat boots. "What about her?" Dean turned his head back at Castiel and realized he had still been holding to his arm. He cleared his throat and let go, suddenly really interested in a plaque on one of the desks.

"I saw her outside the morgue, too" Cas squinted his eyes trying to get a better look at the girl. Dean followed his gaze and let his eyes linger a little longer on her lean frame. She didn't look like much. Or at least he thought he did until she turned around and he saw her eyes; they were brown, but it wasn't the color that got his attention, it was her gaze; it was heavy, deep, like someone who had seen way too much. And they looked familiar. Jane-Doe noted the two males' eyes on her, and walked to them.

"What are you looking at, perv?" Her voice was strong, too. Authoritative. Of course she looked familiar, she was a lot like Jo.

"I am not a perv" Cas defended himself. "Dean is..."

"An agent" Interrupted Dean, before Cas could finish whatever it was he was planning to say.

She checked him out, from toe to head, and from head to toe. "No, you are not. You are Dean Winchester"

That got Dean off balance. "Say what?" He asked, his hand slowly going to the inside of his suit. The girl stopped his hand before he could reach his gun.

"Really, Dean? You are going to shoot me?" She shook her head, and pointed to a deserted hallway with a slight movement of her head. Dean looked at Cas, expecting to have him look back, but was too distracted to notice Dean's gaze practically making a hole on the back of his neck.

Dean buffed, exasperated, but followed the girl anyway, pulling Cas' jacket to make sure he followed.

"Who are you?" Dean asked finally, when they were out of the cop's earshot.

"You don't look as smart as they say you are. Or is that one Sam?"

"You are a hunter, I know that much." Said Dean, more to himself that to her. That explained that look in her eyes, the confident way in which she moved. "What I don't know is who you are, and why you know my name"

"Are you kidding? You and your brother started and stopped the apocalypse. Every hunter in the world knows about you two. And my aunt used to talk a lot about you"

"Your aunt?"

"Ellen?"

And it suddenly dawned on Dean why she looked so familiar; he had seen her a time or two in Bobby's house. Ellen's small niece, daughter to her brother who was a hunter. She had never been raised in the life, spending most of her time with her mother.

"Chloe" He said finally.

"Close enough. Name's Claire." She extended her hand in greeting. "And you are...?" She asked, now looking at Cas.

"Castiel" He introduced himself, shaking her hand since Dean made no move to do it.

"You were not a hunter" His voice was low, mistrustful. Like every Hunter's in the world.

"No, I was not. Actually, I am not. I have a major on criminology."

"College? You went to college?" Dean knew she wasn't raised in the life, but still... her father was a hunter up until the day he died, and here she was, with a college degree.

"That's usually the way to get a degree, yes."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I have been hunting for the last year. Ever since my mother was eaten up by a Wendigo last summer"

"I am... sorry to hear that" Offered Dean, still unsure on whether to trust her or not.

"Thanks. I was surprised to hear aunt Ellen and Jo were dead, haven't been with them for a while, ever since mom figured out what 'job' dad really had. But now..."

"Once you are in, you can't get out" It wasn't a thread, not even a warning. Just a fact.

Claire nodded. "I guess I can't turn back now. When I heard people were mysteriously dropping dead here, I thought I might as well check it out"

"They are dying of fear" Explained Cas. Dean looked at him, then back at the girl and sighed. They might as well just share notes.

"What do you have?" He asked.

"The witness won't talk. Other than that? I know nothing. I thought they died of a heart-attack, but apparently I was wrong."

"Yeah, Sam figured that one out. They were really poisoned by their own adrenaline"

She nodded, thoughtful.

"Never heard of anything like that"

"Us either"

"I will work with you."

"What? No. We are not baby-sitters"

"Good, 'cuzz I'm not a baby. If you wish to solve a case with a creature you have never seen before, Dean, you are going to need contacts"

"I have contacts"

"Breathing contacts"

"Mine are... fine, you can work with us. But don't make me save your ass at all times"

"I am _not_ easy to take on, Dean. I might have not been raised in the life, but my dad made sure I was not defenseless."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I'm black belt in karate and can shoot. I might not have the experience but I damn right have the abilities" Dean smiled. "What the hell are you smiling about?"

"You are though. That's good. What's the worst thing you have ever seen, eh, Bonnie? Couple of vamps? I've been doing this my whole life, and it is not easy. You want in? Fine. But don't act like it is a piece of cake, or like you are magically the best hunter the world's ever seen, got that?"

Now she smiled.

"Now, that's the Dean I remember. Short tempered"

"Dean" Called Cas, looking at the figure walking towards them.

"Hey, Sam" Greeted Dean, not needing much to recognize his brother's silhouette. "Sam, this is Claire, Ellen's niece, remember her? She thinks she can hunt"

Sam looked at the woman aforementioned and smiled a very awkward smile. "Hey?" He greeted. "Hey, Cas"

"Hey, Sam"

"I didn't know you were a hunter." Sam said finally. _Of course the freak remembered,_ though Dean. _There's not a single thing his weird brain cannot remember._

"I am not. I am a criminologist. Have been doing this for only a year, after my mom was killed. Eaten, actually."

"Wendigo" Offered Sam, with a nod.

"Yes. We all have our reasons to be a hunter. This is mine. Can we get the son of a bitch who just killed a twelve-year-old girl?" She said, her determination back. Dean noticed with certain satisfaction that this girl had her mind in the right place. Maybe she could turn into a good hunter, not die before she turns 50.

"I found a place outside town, abandoned house. Three of the five victims went there, reasons unclear." Explained Sam, showing a picture of the place that he had taken with his phone.

"Creepy" Was Dean smart comment.

"What about the other two?" Asked Castiel. "Why does this thing affect angels?"

"Angels?" Asked Claire, taken aback.

"Oh, yeah" Said Dean, suddenly remember he failed to inform his companion was not human. "Cas here is an Angel of the Lord"

"Dean, do not make fun of God"

"I am not, Cas"

"He... he is an angel? Who's beaten up?"

"Well, his vessel is"

"And he doesn't seem to have any juice left in him, otherwise he would have healed himself by now"

"So, whatever we are dealing with, also affects angels?"

"Pretty much"

"You were right, I'm soooo not ready for this."

"Too late, Daphne. You already joined the Scooby gang" Mocked Dean, placing his hand on her shoulder, the way Sammy used to find reasuring back when they were kids.

Claire looked at Cas one more time, all her resolve suddenly gone.

"I am not catholic. Actually, I don't know what I am"

Cas gave her an odd look.

"I am not sure what to answer to that" Said Cas, looking at Dean waiting for an answer.

"It's not Cas you should be afraid of, Claire. He is an angel, no matter what you believe in. And he won't kill you for not believing in his God, either. He doesn't have any juice left, remember?"

Cas frowned at Dean, then looked back at the girl. "I wouldn't kill you even if I had my _juice_." He reassured her.

Dean then got Cas' attention with a hand gesture and headed back into the crowded part of the building.

"Where are we going?" Asked Cas, still following him.

"To interview the witness"

* * *

"What in the world do you mean you saw nothing?" Half-screamed Dean, piercing the witness with his eyes. The boy was around sixteen but was the girl's cousin; he had been with her the night of the party. The night she died.

"I... she was standing there, then she was on the floor"

"You want to know what I think? I think you are lying!" He kicked the chair he had been sitting on just seconds ago, making it fall with a loud crash.

Cas was looking at the scene from behind the glass. The boy looked like he might pee himself any minute now, but his eyes didn't waver; he looked Dean right in the eye. Which only helped infuriate more the Winchester.

"Listen, _buddy_, I can get you into jail for obstruction of justice if you don't tell me what you know" One of the tattooed men in the room looked at the boy with hungry eyes. Dean smiled; maybe this was what he needed to get the boy to talk. "Hey, big guy" He called, the man with the tattoos looked at him. He was big, like WWE big. But Dean didn't waver, in fact, he smiled at him. "I think this place is empty" He said, placing his chair right next to the boy. The man quickly walked to the chair and winked to the boy. "See? You are already making friends."

"NO! Okay, I'll tell you! But you have to promise not to tell"

"You are in no position to make requests, pretty boy. But talk"

"I wasn't with her"

"You what?"

"I was supposed to be with her. But I wasn't. We were at the party and a man asked her to dance. He was a little older but she said yes. I was supposed to be looking after her, but I went with some friends, I hate dancing. Next thing I know? She is screaming bloody murder and when I go to find her, she is alone in a room in a middle of a heart attack" The kid broke into tears.

"It wasn't your fault" Said Dean finally, his brotherly instincts kicking in. "Thank you for this information, Josh. Did anybody else saw anything?" But Dean knew the answer even before he voiced the question. Big party with no adults anywhere near by. No one knew anything.

"A lot of people heard the screams, but no one saw her. I was the only one who rushed into the room"

Dean nodded.

"You can go home now, kid." He said, escorting the kid up to the front door.

"Do you believe him?" Asked Cas, catching up with Dean, Sam and Claire following right behind.

"You don't cry in front of a room full of tattooed, big men unless you have a reason, Cas" Was all Dean offered as an only answer. His voice was low and dangerous now.

"Don't make it personal" Warned Sam.

"The beast killed a kid. Damn right this is personal, Sam. Let's go to that house."

"It's still day, party won't start until midnight" Pointed out Claire, a little scared by Dean's reaction.

"We go. Now" Dean tone left no room for argument. All four headed for the Impala parked across the street. "Cas, you ride shotgun" Informed Dean, when he noticed Claire's apprehensive look at riding 30 minutes with an angel in the backseat.

"Do you believe in Heaven?" Claire asked Sam, once she thought Cas and Dean were out of earshot.

"Do you?"

"... I guess. I don't know. I mean, not a heaven where you were white dresses, play harps and ride ponies around clouds but I guess I believe in _something._"

Sam smiled. "I have been there before, Clair. Of course I believe in it. Don't worry, none of that happens."

"You have been to... you have died before?"

Sam looked at her, seizing up how much she might be able to handle. A hell lot, he realized. Just like Dean this girl was a fan of taking the blows in and never showing what she felt like.

"Yes, I have." Was all he said, more for his sake than hers.


	6. Shadow of the Night

**Chapter 5. Shadow of the Night**

The Road so Far

"_Found anything on the newspaper?" Asked Sam finally, already finishing his breakfast._

"_Fourth heart attack in less than a month, all from relatively healthy people. Youngest was 18, oldest was 34. Think this is our thing?"_

"_Where is it?" _

"_Villisca"_

_On the door stood the angel, his vessel's face now covered in blood, one of his eyes purple and swollen._

"_Oh, crap. Castiel, what happened to you?" Asked Sam, helping his friend into the room. "How did you find us?"_

"_I... I do not remember, Sam. I woke up two streets down. I saw the Impala. This is the third door I knock on."_

_And it suddenly dawned on Dean why she looked so familiar; he had seen her a time or two in Bobby's house. Ellen's small niece, daughter to her brother who was a hunter. She had never been raised in the life, spending most of her time with her mother._

"_Chloe" He said finally._

"_Close enough. Name's Claire."_

"_Don't make it personal" Warned Sam._

"_The beast killed a kid. Damn right this is personal, Sam. Let's go to that house."_

"_It's still day, party won't start until midnight" Pointed out Claire, a little scared by Dean's reaction._

"_We go. Now"_

Now

Dean was driving the car as fast as he could without killing himself on the process, eyes straight on the road. For a long while not a single word was spoken among his companion. It took Sam a while to realize what was so off about this trip, aside of course, of the fact that his brother was driving like a maniac; he had ridden with a furious Dean so many times before to be actually surprised by his silence or the speed. And then it hit him: there was no music. When Dean got upset he usually turned the radio as loud as possible in a futile attempt to numb his thought. This time he hadn't even bothered to try. This was the fourth time in his whole life he had ever done it, not like Sam could know this, of course.

The first one was when he drove around Stanford a couple of months after Sammy left, hoping to get the slightest glimpse of his brother, just to make sure he was okay. He didn't.

The second one was when Sam had been trapped in the cage with Lucifer and he had driven all night to get to Lisa's.

The third, and last one, was when Cas came back after playing God.

Claire was looking out of the car's window, her resolve had finally come back after getting over the fact that she was getting a ride with an angel on the front sit. She might not be as tough as the guys, but she was strong and had a rather fierce personality. After a lifetime of this life the boys had stopped fearing death, learning the hard way that what really hurt was not crossing the veil, but losing oneself. They had learned that the truth comes at a price, and most of the time it is not worth it. That silence can be more deafening that the loudest voice. They knew how damn easy the descent into hell was. But the thing that might have struck her the most had she known it was the fact that the darkness she was so afraid of was where they now found safety. They knew from experience of all the things that could hide in the bright light of day, but in the darkness? There were no lies. No pretending. People on the other hand...

With a sight Sam went back to reading a little bit more about Satoris on his mobile phone, trying his best to concentrate on the words, trying to tie them to actual, real, physical evidence. It was useless.

"Dean, according to this a Satori only attacks in Japan. In the mountains"

"Well, this obviously doesn't" He answered back, not even bothering to look at his brother.

"Are you saying is not a Satori?" Asked Claire, confusion adorning her features.

"It wouldn't be the first something that wasn't supposed to happen, happened" Explained Sam, still reading. "Dude, it also says they don't kill." With that, he shut his phone off and threw it at Castiel, in case Dean wanted to read it.

"Great. So, if it is not a Satori, what is it?"

"Maybe we should read first, Dean" Offered Castiel, looking straight ahead. A dark silhouette was starting to form a couple meters from the car, it was crooked and big; the abandoned house. It didn't look like much, even starting to fall apart. And it looked deserted.

"We just drove 30 minutes, Cas. We are going in" Dean sounded determined, but Castiel only moved uncomfortable on the front sit.

"What's the matter?" Finally asked Dean, his eyes lingering for a second on Cas' worried face.

"This place is guarded against angels. It feels...weird." Less than five minutes after, Dean was already parking the car in front of the old house, both boys and the girl staring at the angel. He looked thoughtful, and Dean knew there was something he wasn't telling them. He, however, did not pressure the angel. He knew better than that.

"Okay, Cas, you stay here we will go check it out, alright?" He tossed his phone at the angel and led the way to the house.

The angel said nothing, his eyes fixed on the old construction in front of them. After a while, when he noticed Dean's eyes were on him he slowly nodded. With a sigh and the rustle of the leaves against three different pair of feet, Castiel was left alone in the shadow of the night.


End file.
